


There's No Hair in Team

by mific



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Digital Art, Fanart, Fanfiction, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Remix, Team as Family, Traditional Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-25 18:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20376460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: The solidarity remix.





	There's No Hair in Team

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flowersforgraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dirt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016840) by [flowersforgraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves). 

> Written for Remix Revival 2019. I enjoyed flowersforgraves' story so I used Rodney's POV to take another look at what happens. I also got a bit carried away and couldn't resist doing art as well.

John looks dead.

He's lying face down covered in blood on the floor of the filthy cell, and Rodney sucks in a shuddering breath, feeling faint. Why would John's luck run out _here_, on this shit-hole nothing of a moon? Rodney can barely recall why they came here—some vague hint in the database? An ore the geologists were excited about? M5K-299. What sort of name's _that_ for a place to die?

Carson pushes past Rodney to get to John and Rodney feels useless. Carson's fussing with John's head, sucking air in through his teeth. Rodney really should be doing something but he can't seem to move.

Ronon and Teyla are outside with the Marines seeing to the last of the Aloi guards, the bastards who captured John three days ago and dragged him up here to this mountain prison. And Rodney's in here, in this cold, dark cell with John's body and with Carson who's lifting up John's clothing to check his wounds. God, there's blood everywhere.

Wait, Carson's _working_. He's not looking up at Rodney with big sad eyes, shaking his head.

"Is he... alive?" Rodney's voice cracks.

"Aye, barely." Carson does look up at him now, frowning. "What are ye just standing there for, man? Go get a stretcher, or Ronon—we've got to get John to the jumper. Chop chop!" he flaps a hand impatiently, but Rodney's already scrambling for the hallway like an over-wound toy finally set in motion.

As he runs to the outer door he skirts the body of one of the Aloi jailers, blasted by Ronon on the way in. Rodney puts a bullet in him for good measure as he passes, then he's calling for Ronon to come, for Teyla and Cadman and Lorne, because John's not dead yet and time is of the essence.

_John's not dead._

* * *

They sit vigil in the infirmary waiting room's uncomfortable chairs after John's been rushed through on a gurney. Rodney and Teyla sit, that is. Ronon paces angrily, clearly itching to head back to M5K-299 and kill the rest of the Aloi. Rodney might go with him, if he can bring a tactical nuke.

After a while, Carson emerges and reassures them that it looked worse than it was. John's got multiple cuts and bruises and he's dehydrated and unconscious, very likely concussed. His skull wasn't fractured though, and he should recover fully in a few weeks with rest and antibiotics. Rodney turns away and takes several deep breaths until Ronon knocks him into the wall with a clap on the back, the big ape. Teyla pulls Carson into an Athosian embrace and then Carson ducks back into his lair again.

Woolsey turns up. He's pleased with the news about John of course, but he's clutching a message relayed through the gate—some political crisis with the Athosians, and Halling needs Teyla's help. Rodney waves her off because John'll be out for the count for some time and he can sit with him as well as anyone. He needs to review the latest research reports, anyway.

Ronon looks torn, but in the end he goes with Teyla. It makes sense—they've got one injured team member and they don't need any more disasters, even if the Athosian world is low risk. As far as anywhere's low risk in Pegasus. Rodney watches them stride away—he's pretty sure Teyla only let Ronon tag along to stop him gating back to M5K-299 with a bazooka.

"I'll look after him," Rodney calls, and they wave, then turn the corner and they're gone. Rodney sighs and rolls his shoulders. He opens the door and sticks his head into the infirmary. "I'm just getting my laptop," he tells the duty nurse. "I'll be back to sit with him."

"Sure thing, Dr. McKay," she says. "They'll be a while yet."

"Is that you, Rodney?" Carson pokes his head out from the curtains around John's bed. "Aye, take your time. We'll just clean him up a wee bit." He disappears again. Rodney lets out a long breath, and makes for the transporters. He'd better have a shower, now he thinks of it. Who knows what sort of toxic slime he might have touched in that horrible cell.

* * *

Three things happen when he's finally allowed back in to see John.

  1. Rodney has a brief but unpleasant panic attack because _John's hair is gone_, and he looks terrifyingly vulnerable without it, bruises livid in the bleak infirmary lighting and the long, dark line of the sutured laceration curving over the bowl of his skull like a crouching centipede.
  2. Rodney corners Carson in his office and threatens to eviscerate him with one of his own scalpels. John's still unconscious, thank Christ, which is the only way Carson's evil minion Nurse Anderson got anywhere near The Hair so as to shave it all off. So Rodney has to yell at Carson very quietly, which amounts to hissing like an enraged cat. The last thing John needs is to be jolted awake by their argument to find that not only does he have a splitting headache but Carson and his evil henchnurse have shaved off all his fucking hair.
  3. Rodney starts plotting.

He brushes aside Carson's specious excuse that he had to shave John's hair to properly examine his possibly fractured skull, because, hello, highly sophisticated ancient medical scanner! Not to mention standard X-Rays for fuck's sake—they brought a portable X-ray unit with them when they first came through the wormhole, as Rodney well knows; he's fixed the damn thing twice. No, this is proof positive Carson got his medical degree off a Froot Loops box, and Rodney makes no bones about telling him so.

Then Rodney's banned from the infirmary, ha! Like Carson could keep him out if he seriously wanted to be in there. But no, it's okay for now because Rodney has to fix this, and for that he needs Teyla and Ronon.

Rodney failed in his duty—failed to watch over John when he was at his most helpless.

He has to make this right.

* * *

Teyla kicks ass with the Athosians in record time, anxious to return and see John, so she and Ronon are back in less than three hours. Rodney's been supervising gateroom operations, i.e. lurking and harassing Chuck, and he pounces on them as soon as they rematerialize and drags them off into one of the small meeting rooms on the way to the infirmary.

"Why have you brought us here, Rodney," Teyla asks, eyebrows signalling her impatience. "It has been an exceptionally trying day and I wish to see John without further ado. Is he awake yet?"

"No, well, I hope not. He wasn't ten minutes ago, when I last checked."

Ronon's looking pissed as well. "Why aren't you with him?"

"I had to see you two first. It's worse than we thought—they assaulted him!"

"Yeah, fucking Aloi," Ronon growls, fists clenching at his sides.

"No, not them, not, not that..." Rodney says, words tangling in his haste to explain. "Carson! Well, actually Nurse Anderson, but he said Carson ordered it." He knows he's wringing his hands but he can't seem to stop it.

"Rodney!" Teyla doesn't raise her voice but it cracks like a whip. "What did they _do_?"

"They shaved off all John's hair!" Rodney collapses into one of the chairs set around the table, peering up at them tragically. "Some bullshit excuse about Carson not being able to see the wound to check how bad it was."

"But there are scanners..." Teyla's brows have pulled together, a sharp line bisecting them.

"Well, _precisely_!" Rodney waves his hands to express Carson's utter imbecility.

Ronon looks grim. "Sheppard's not gonna like it."

"They did it before I got in there to see him," Rodney says miserably.

Teyla lays a hand on his shoulder. "It is not your fault."

"I took a shower," Rodney admits. "I should have made Carson let me in straight away, but I didn't know what he was planning."

"It is done now. Do not blame yourself," Teyla says, but she looks troubled. It's hard enough to get John to stay in the infirmary at the best of times, and now, after this attack on his hair, it'll be well-nigh impossible.

Rodney takes a deep breath. "Okay, but, um, I have an idea. It's... it's a lot to ask of you both, being, er, _gifted_ in that department, but–"

"Spit it out, McKay," Ronon says, glowering.

"We should all cut our hair off—all the team!" Rodney blurts in a rush, then peeks nervously up at Teyla and Ronon. "In solidarity with John. I mean, yes it'll be cold on some planets we go to, but we can, I don't know, we can wear hats or something. Radek's a dab hand at knitting, and Lorne's pretty good too, so they can–"

"Yeah, okay," Ronon says, and Teyla's nodding agreement.

Rodney gapes at them. "You'll do it? I mean, it's not such a big thing for me, not having that much to lose, but, well..." He looks up at Ronon's massive deadlocks and makes hefting motions with his hands.

Ronon shrugs. "Been meaning to get it cut for a while. Only s'posed to wear it long for eight years of mourning."

Teyla looks thoughtful. "That is your tradition? For Athosians it is the opposite, although not for as many years. But I lost my father, and then Charin, so I have kept my hair short for a long time."

"Ah, short?" Rodney squints up at the chestnut curls falling around her shoulders.

"Yes, Rodney." Teyla smiles at him and then sits down at the table. "Do you mean to say you were not aware that I wear a wig?"

"A..." Rodney's speechless. He flails inarticulately at her hair. "A _wig_?"

"They are not hard to come by in Pegasus, Rodney," Teyla says quietly, fiddling with something at the back of her neck and at her temples. "The Manarians make wigs of high quality."

Ronon leans against the wall. "Wraith don't take the hair," he says brusquely. "They leave it white, though, so people dye it and the color's always weird."

"Yes," Teyla agrees,"this is not my natural color." She pulls out some hairpins and takes off her tumbling auburn locks, and oh crap, it _is_ a wig. Underneath, her hair's dark and very short, kind of messy and standing up in various directions after being squashed by the hairpiece. She's even more beautiful, Rodney thinks, her head elegant on her long neck, like that bust of Nefertiti that Jackson used to have in his office at the SGC.

Teyla sets the wig on the table where it crouches like a headless long-haired animal. She runs her fingers through her short, spiky hair, massaging her scalp, eyes closed in pleasure. "Ah, that is better. It will be a relief not to have to wear it."

There's a pause, then Rodney grabs the gym bag he'd stashed under the table earlier. He opens it on the table, taking out a pair of scissors, a comb, a disposable razor and shaving foam, a towel, and a small mirror. He looks up at Ronon. "Shall I go first?"

"Sure." Ronon grins and slips one of his razor-sharp knives out of a sheath. "Not gonna need that plastic shaving thing, though."

Rodney swallows, then he steels himself, pulls his chair out from the table and drapes the towel around his shoulders.

* * *

Rodney looks up from his scrambled eggs and waves at John and Ronon who've come into the mess hall after their run. Ronon sees him and waves back. They move through the serving line then make their way over, Ronon sitting down beside Teyla and John taking the seat beside Rodney.

Rodney notes that Ronon's tray is laden while John's taken less, just buttered toast, a sausage, and fruit. John's appetite still isn't quite back to normal but the dizziness and nausea stopped a couple of weeks ago. He's self-conscious about the giant scar on his head so he's wearing the black, close-fitting toque Lorne speed-knitted him. Ronon doesn't bother with a hat and his head, although larger, is almost as well-shaped as Teyla's. There's a fuzz of stubble over Ronon's head like a skull-cap, similar to Rodney's.

Rodney runs a hand over his fuzzy head, a frequent, unconscious gesture. Teyla shakes her head at him almost imperceptibly and he snatches his hand away, covering it by stealing one of Ronon's muffins. Ronon growls, but Rodney knows he loads up with extras in case John can be persuaded to take one for a snack, so it's more bark than bite.

"Dicing with death there, McKay," John says, grinning around a mouthful of toast. "Hey, lil' buddy," he says to Torren, who's in Teyla's lap, gumming a crust. Torren waves the crust at him and gurgles.

Rodney lifts his chin. "I like to live dangerously," he says, and John snorts.

"Did you have a good run?" Teyla asks, confiscating a fork from Torren's sticky fingers. It's only the second or third time John and Ronon have been running since John got out of the infirmary, and Rodney knows Ronon's going easy, choosing shorter routes and taking it slow.

"Yeah, not so bad," John says, picking at his eggs. "Made it halfway down the East Pier this time, even if I did have to walk back some of the way."

"Stamina'll get better," Ronon says through a sausage. "Won't take long." He slips half a sausage to Torren.

"Hope not," John says. He looks across at Teyla. "You're lookin' good, Teyla. Kind of got an Audrey Hepburn thing going on there."

"Yes, very gamine," Rodney agrees. "Unlike my plucked-chicken impression. Hey—maybe I could get one of those wigs from Manaria?"

John claps Rodney on the shoulder. "You don't need a damn hairpiece, Rodney. You look fine." He turns back to Teyla. "Man, I still can't believe you were wearing a wig all those years. Talk about oblivious."

Teyla smiles and goes on peeling her rigafruit. "I assumed you were constrained by some Earth taboo so did not mention it."

"But why did you bother?" Rodney asks. It's been bugging him; he hates missing things.

Teyla looks down at Torren's head and sighs. "I adopted the wig as a semblance of normality. Those we traded with expected me to have long hair, being Athosian. To be in obvious mourning added unwanted complexity to the trades, and to the politics of the council on Athos. I maintained my close-cropped hair longer than most saw as strictly proper, first for my father, and then for Charin. My people saw it as... excessive." She smiles at them all, a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "But there was always something to mourn. We lost Athos, then I chose to remain here so I lost my people, and then Michael took them."

John grimaces in sympathy. "That mean you're not, ah, doing the mourning thing anymore?"

"I am not." She kisses Torren's head and looks up, smiling. "Enough is enough. I have my home and my family now, here in Atlantis."

"Yeah," John says, blinking a little rapidly. He applies himself to his breakfast, looking down. "Same here." His voice is hoarse.

"Yes, yes," Rodney says quickly before they all descend into a maudlin stupor, "and—oh my giddy aunt, what in hell are _those_?"

"Are matching team hats, Rodney," Radek says, piling the garish things on the table, eyes twinkling with mischief. They're horizontally striped in the colors of the rainbow.

"Hey, there's one for the kid," Ronon says, taking the small multicolored dome and putting it carefully on Torren's head. "Looks pretty good." Torren waves his sausage in agreement. Ronon grabs a large one and pulls it onto his own fuzz-covered head. Teyla takes a slightly smaller hat and puts it on as well.

"Well," John says resignedly, "they're not gonna fly on missions, not being camo colors, but I guess at breakfast..." He takes one and swaps it for his black hat, then flips the last rainbow hat at Rodney, who catches it awkwardly before it falls into his eggs.

"I'll get you for this," Rodney promises Radek, eyes narrowed, then he puts on his hat as well and the whole team sits there, looking like a bunch of gay power commandos.

"Smile!" Lorne says cheerily, popping up with a camera.

There's a flash and Rodney blinks, gritting his teeth, but Teyla's giggling, Torren's gurgling, Ronon's snorting, and John's doing his weird braying honk.

Rodney adds Radek and Lorne to the 'to be gutted with a scalpel' list, along with Carson.

Then he gives in and lets himself laugh.

* * *

Epilogue


End file.
